


Body Electric

by Bearslayer



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Face Sitting, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Smut, Strap-Ons, power play sort of?, the girls are FUCKing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24834355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearslayer/pseuds/Bearslayer
Summary: Eve rides Villanelle.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 28
Kudos: 435





	Body Electric

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr prompt; "Villanelle's praise kink".
> 
> Enjoy Villanelle being worshipful of Eve in a nearly literal way!

There was nothing graceful and delicate about Eve's form, no arched back and thrown back head as she came for a third time. She rode Villanelle's hips hard, thighs squeezing, sweat catching in her clavicles. She could see every mark on Eve's body from her angle; every little scar that littered her form, a bruise on her hip from where she had smacked it against the corner of a table, the wrinkles that creased not just her face, but her hands and feet. When she came, her body folded in on itself a little, showing itself in the clenching of her belly and the brief, high pitched whimper of a moan that sounded almost pained. The leather wrapped around Villanelle's waist and thighs rubbed her raw in the spots where Eve gripped her with those surprisingly powerful legs, uncomfortable almost to the point of distraction. Almost. It was remarkable how wet Eve still was; she could see it every time she stole a glance down to peek at the hot pink silicone held in place by an o-ring when Eve rose up. It was slick, coated in uneven bands of clear and white, so slick that if Eve decided to lift up too high it might slip right out.

Eve never did raise her body up too high, though, preferring it as deep as she could get it. She was relentless as she impaled herself, hands anchored on Villanelle's chest. The pace was breakneck and seemed exhausting and rough, but when Eve got like this she wouldn't stop, _couldn't_ stop until she was too overstimulated to continue. She would be so sore that for the next two days the idea of sex would make her cringe with the memory of the time she spent pummeling herself on the fake cock. Villanelle kept her hands on Eve's at her chest, squeezing them as she stared, awed by the sight of her. She was messy and animal and gorgeous in all of her wild, wanton motions. The urge to push up with her own hips to fuck her back was so strong she could feel it in her whole body, but she showed restraint.

She wanted to be good for Eve, and what Eve wanted was to ride her until she couldn't function anymore, until the very act of orgasm made her body ache through the endorphin rush. She wanted to use Villanelle to get off, but without her interference. She wanted total control over every feeling. So Villanelle wouldn't touch, wouldn't thrust up, wouldn't think of her own pleasure until Eve was satisfied. She was so turned on she could barely see straight, everything in the room aside from Eve a heady blur. Her senses were simultaneously heightened and muted; nothing around them even registered. She was hyper-focused on the woman she loved violently fucking herself, on the smell of her sweat and arousal, on the way her eyes screwed shut the closer she got to her next orgasm, on the feeling of her wetness trickling down on to Villanelle's bare skin beneath the strap. Nothing else mattered to Villanelle, not even the way her neglected clit throbbed with need. Getting herself off would be so easy; one press of her fingers would push her over –

“You're being so, so good, baby,” Eve breathed, unfocused eyes centering somewhere on Villanelle's face.

Her words sent a current down her spine, electric and hot, making her whimper in desperation. The lack of control forced her into such a keyed up state of arousal that she could only give a little nod, squeezing Eve's hands again. One pulled away to cup her cheek and even that was enough to set her nerves alight, tingles shooting through her body, making the throb even worse. She was in such a deep state of arousal that Eve's forth orgasm made her give a sob, turning her head into the palm that cupped her cheek. She shed no tears; the sob was something buried in her throat, something primal and comprised of the culmination of an hour or maybe more of so-close-yet-so far away release. Eve's thumb slid along her parted lips.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?” Eve asked, concerned at the noise, hips stilling for the first time in what felt like a week.

“No – no – don't stop until you're done – I'm okay – I'm so fucking turned on Eve.” Villanelle explained in a heavy whisper, voice catching at several spots in her throat.

“Good girl.” Eve leaned in to grant her a gentle kiss.

The tenderness of Eve's kiss juxtaposed against the slamming and dragging of her hips made Villanelle's head swim. Good girl – she was a good girl for her, good enough to deserve that tender touch, good enough to deserve Eve's beautiful, perfect body with all it's scars and bruises and wrinkles, good enough to watch her come over and over again. Every atom in her body belonged to Eve, and every part of her was on fire, burning up in the heat of her passion. Eve was some ancient, nameless goddess made flesh, and Villanelle was her only worshipper, greedy for her praise and love. She was drunk on feeling alone, wound so tightly that she might break. Every pore shone with sweat from the effort of staying still, further clouding her sight and her mind. Her vision was so hazy that it seemed a divine nimbus surrounded Eve, adding to her unhinged, transcendent nature.

“I want – I want...” Eve gasped as she plunged down and rolled her hips, eyelids fluttering closed.

Villanelle snapped to attention, hand going to rest over the one on her cheek, blinking the sweat from her eyes.

“Tell me,” She begged, kissing her palm, “Tell me so I can give it to you.”

“Fuck me, Villanelle.” Eve pulled away her hands, hips pulling up to extract herself from the position, indicating a shift in dynamic.

She was too tired to keep riding but still too turned on to stop, so it was Villanelle's turn to move. Her arms shot out to wrap around Eve's slender waist as she lifted herself, pulling their bodies flush against one another. Eve held her shoulders, ready for whatever movement Villanelle decided on – and the decision was instantaneous. She lifted Eve and rolled them, dropping her on to the mess of pillows at the top of the bed. She never moved from between her thighs, and Eve never tried to disconnect completely, legs hooking around her waist. She took a brief moment to take in the sight of her again, from her gorgeous hair down to her chest where her nipples stood erect, down to her hips, down to her almost painfully red labia and clit. She wanted to soothe that angry red with her tongue, but she knew what Eve wanted, and at that moment it wasn't that.

She reached down to line up with Eve, smiling down at her as she guided it back in. She pushed, pushed, pushed until their hips were flush again. Eve whimpered at the sensation, locking her legs around Villanelle, fingers digging her shoulders. It took a little adjustment to get herself into the best position to thrust with as much power as she could, the way Eve wanted. She started slower than Eve would have liked, but hit her stride quickly, encouraged by the squeeze of her legs and digging of her nails. So emboldened was she that she allowed herself to reach out and stroke a hand down Eve's arching chest. Eve, too weak and lust-drunk to maintain total control as Villanelle snapped her hips, did not stop her hand's path. She hesitated before reaching her target, looking up to her face.

“I can touch?” She asked, stroking her belly in time with her thrusts.

“Y-yes, please baby – it feels so fucking good--” Eve gasped.

Her noises had tapered off into near-constant gasps and whimpers, pleasure rapidly propelling towards that point she had been working towards. That point where her nerves were nearly fried, where she felt the rawness of pain trickling into the pleasure of orgasm. Villanelle slid her fingers down to Eve's swollen clit, locking it between her fingers. Eve let out a strangled moan-slash-scream as another wave hit, nails digging crescent moons into Villanelle's shoulders as the orgasm pummeled her as swiftly as the movement of her hips. Villanelle did not stop, pounding her lover the way she liked, massaging her clit between her fingers until Eve shook and sobbed and every muscle in her body simultaneously went stiff and then released. Villanelle didn't stop until she felt Eve's hands drop from her shoulders to the hand on her clit, tapping lightly. She released her and looked down.

“No more?” She smiled. Villanelle was only half aware that she was shaking with a pent-up arousal so full and deep that it could barely be contained.

Eve shook her head a little, hands moving weakly to the harness strap and feeling blindly. She was trying to get if off of her – Villanelle helped her, unfastening it and letting Eve yank it off and drop it to the bed. Villanelle bit her lip as Eve shifted down a bit on the bed, enough to get her hands to the backs of her thighs. Eve looked up at her, tapping her thighs and giving a smirk that made Villanelle fall to pieces inside, a look that reminded her of how badly her own ache was. Villanelle was going to get her reward, and she was so overwhelmed by the idea of it that it was hard to move to receive it.

“C'mon baby.” Eve encouraged, exhaustion too heavy to do the movement herself.

Villanelle grinned a little, moving at the go-ahead up Eve's body. She sank down on her knees over her face, closing her eyes as Eve used her thighs to adjust and pull herself closer. Her fingers moved down to touch the hair she had wanted to stroke all night, threading into it as she lowered at Eve's urging. She whispered a soft 'fuck!' at the first touch of Eve's tongue against her clit, fingers tightening at the feeling. It was almost too much – too much feeling, too much pleasure, too much to process, and her whispers turned quickly to a luxuriating moan, basking in the attention being lavished on her long neglected bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, Eve,” She moaned, fingers rhythmically kneading at the hair she held, “Is this because I was – I was a good girl?”

She didn't expect an answer, talking mindlessly... but Eve gave an affirming hum that reverberated through her clit and up her spine, making her cry out harder, hips rolling down against her mouth. Eve sucked and licked and gripped her thighs, intent on working as hard as she needed to to make Villanelle come. She didn't have to work very hard at all, as it turned out. Villanelle's little waves of pleasure soon morphed into a tsunami that hit her body so hard that all Eve could do was to hold on and endure her grinding, barely able to breathe as she pulled every bit of pleasure to the surface for her.

When Villanelle lifted, Eve followed for a moment more, licking a stripe up her center, delighting briefly in the mingling tastes of their pleasure that had gathered there. Villanelle whimpered a little, shifting to move back down and gather Eve's small, spent form against her, kissing her deeply as she sank into the pillows.

“I love you.” She mumbled tiredly into Eve's mouth, hands stroking down her back.

“I love you,” Eve agreed, “... We're gonna have to change these sheets.”

“We might have to just throw them away. They've seen too much.”


End file.
